The story of a Czech WW II airman and his remarkable dog

Many countries have had famous war animals, one remembered in Great Britain
is Antis, an Alsatian belonging to Czech airman Václav Robert
Bozděch. More than 60 years ago, in 1949, the animal was awarded the PDSA
Dickin
medal, the animals’ Victoria Cross, for bravery and outstanding service
during World War II. The dog and his owner, part of a six-man crew, flew
more than 30 bombing missions over occupied Europe and Nazi Germany,
evading formidable German defences, always lucky to make it back. As his
and his owner’s fame grew, Antis went from being a valued mascot for his
crew, to a symbol of courage for all in the RAF.

Václav Bozděch with his dog Antis, photo: CTK
March 15th, 1939, German troops entered Czechoslovakia, and Hitler
proclaimed Bohemia and Moravia a Nazi protectorate, reducing the country
to
a rump state. Many in the Czech air force began fleeing the country with a
common purpose: to serve abroad; among them was 27-year-old Czech airman
Václav Bozděch. Like many of his compatriots, he escaped first to
Poland,
then to France, where he served in the Foreign Legion, and later as a
flyer. It was on one of his missions over France that he found the dog.
The
moment is described in Freedom in the Air - A Czech Flyer & his
Aircrew
Dog, by author Hamish Ross. On a line from Glasgow this week the author
told me there two version of the story.

“The earliest version is from a British newspaper of 1942 saying
that
Bozděch’s plane went down in no man’s land in March 1940. According
to
the paper, the airman found the puppy in an abandoned farmhouse which had
been recently deserted. And he took him. The second version was in Czech,
in Rozlet published in 1945: it said Bozděch bought the puppy from a
farmer. We don’t really know which version is correct, but certainly the
bonding between the two seems to suggest it was something more dramatic
than just getting him from a farmer. Bozděch himself subscribed to the
earlier version.”

The airman escaped from France with the puppy in tow, eventually making
his way to Great Britain. Although strict quarantine laws were in effect,
he managed to smuggle his four-legged companion in, and as a result the
dog
was raised and spent most of his life on air bases. Bozděch trained the
dog well within the No. 311 Czechoslovak squadron and their attachment was
great, so great that ahead of one mission, the Alsatian (who could no
longer stand to be parted form his owner) stowed away on the plane, the C
for Cecelia, the crew’s Wellington bomber. Hamish Ross once again:

“He was surprised to find that the dog was not waiting to see him
off
before the flight and off they went. He just assumed the dog was in
somebody’s hut and wasn’t worried. As the plane was crossing the Dutch
coast at about 12 thousand feet, he felt this tap at his elbow. He thought
it was the navigator asking for a radio fix on their position, but when he
looked in his direction, he saw the navigator was busy in his charts. So
he
stared into the darkness and couldn’t believe it, it was the dog, lying
on the floor, his sides heaving as he was struggling to breathe! So he had
to share his oxygen mask!

“That flight itself was a difficult raid: they had more than their
share
of enemy activity and there were also lightning storms and several of the
radios and some of the electronics were put of action. When they returned,
the Wellington crew came to the conclusion that Antis had brought them
luck. And it was the collective decision by the six men in the crew, that
Antis would join the combat team.”

Flying with the dog, was of course strictly against regulations,
nevertheless, Antis took part in some 30 missions, bringing inspiration to
his crew. Twice, he was injured by flak, once a scratch to his ear and
muzzle, another time a chest injury far more threatening. Nevertheless,
the
animal’s nature and training saw him behave exceptionally: it was only
on
their return from one of the flights that Bozděch realised the animal had
even been hurt.

“He said that the dog there showed courage that perhaps a human
being
couldn’t show. The dog did not panic, it did not whine, it just lay at
his feet. In 1949, when Field Marshall Wavell pinned the Dickin Medal on
his collar, that he had inspired others through his courage and
steadfastness. That was the remarkable thing.”

As the bombing raids continued, rumours of the Antis’s existence began
to spread. They were of course denied, even though the dog’s story
became
something of an open secret. Eventually the truth came out. But rather
than
being an “embarrassment” for the RAF, Antis with Bomber Command became
an inspiration for many. By then his flying days were over, but a dog
capable of braving dangerous flights through blinding searchlights and
anti-aircraft fire as well as enemy fighters, was a hero and a worthy
mascot.

As the conflict wore on, slowly the scales tipped in favour of the Allies.
When the war ended in May 1945 it meant that Václav Bozděch and
compatriots could now soon return home. It had been a difficult six years
of sacrifice. But now democracy in Czechoslovakia could be restored.

But tragically it would be short-lived: the country again descended into
darkness in 1948, this time under the Communists. Overnight, men like
Bozděch – who had risked everything for their country and endured -
became enemies of the state and it was time – again - to escape. For
Bozděch that meant a personal tragedy: he left behind a wife and baby
son.
Hamish Ross again:

“Of course, the thing to note from the start was that Bozděch
couldn’t possibly take his wife and a seven-month old child along. But
he
could take the dog. That wasn’t just sentimentality: he did feel that
the
dog could alert him to danger in advance.”

In fact, the dog was to play a pivotal role in the airman’s escape,
helping him and two others slip into West Germany. A group of strangers
–
nearby in the dark – was not so lucky.

“The crossing spot was compromised and the searchlights came on.
Machine
guns from a fixed position raked the ground and these others were either
killed or wounded. So Bozděch and his companions then took a round-about
route, and the dog was their ‘guiding light’ and crossed safely over
the border.”

Bozděch never returned to the country of his birth. He remarried in
England and had a second family. But also he never forgot what he had left
behind. The outcome must have haunted him deeply.

“They fought not only for the freedom of Czechoslovakia but for the
freedom of the western countries. Then in ’48, when they fled again,
those who were able to get out, there was just no hope left. There was
just
nothing, there was no intervention. For Bozděch it meant complete
severance from his country for the rest of his life. He tried very hard to
keep in touch with his son Jan, who was by now ten or 12, up until he was
around 20, sending him parcels under an assumed name at Christmas. When I
interviewed Jan in Prague, he told me that what he loved as a boy were the
stamps, the foreign stamps, that put him in a special category.”

As for Antis, Bozděch’s famous dog? The brave Alsatian lived until the
age of 13. After the animal died, Václav Bozděch never wanted - and
never
had - a dog again.